


Is There Somewhere

by Scavengersdaughter2



Series: Birthday Songfic Playlist [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe no werewolves, Blow Jobs, M/M, Office Romance, Office Sex, Phone Sex, Songfic, Weed, based on a halsey song, sex friends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-24 09:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6149245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavengersdaughter2/pseuds/Scavengersdaughter2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek wants to be happy.<br/>So he separates from his wife and becomes sex friends with the new IT guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is There Somewhere

Derek always wondered if he'd end up happy or not.  

Being successful was a given. He was the epitome of privileged (minus the whole dead family thing). So money and success was inevitable.  

Happiness, though, that was something he couldn't predict. He'd fantasized about what his life would be like after his career took off.  

A hot wife. A successful career. Money. Expensive cars. He would have it all.  

Except, as he had come to find out, happiness did not follow all of those things.  

He'd graduated with a Bachelor's in Business and Finance.  

He got a job at a successful office and was told daily how valuable he was to the company. 

He married the girl he'd been dating since his Junior year. The wedding was small because neither had living relatives. They married in the Bahamas and took a trip through Europe for their honeymoon.  

It'd been nice. 

By the time we was in his late twenties, he could check everything off his 'What Makes Someone Successful' list.  

Except happiness, that is.  

He thought if he could just follow the steps, happiness would follow.  

His job paid well and was easy for him. Braeden was everything he wanted in a partner; strong, independent, intelligent. He had a massive loft with a garage full of cars. But something was missing.  

He was restless. Bored. He had everything and yet, nothing. He was empty. 

Due to his impatient and caustic exterior, a product of his feelings of emptiness, Braeden and he fought more. He secretly liked it. At least they could somewhat communicate when they were yelling.  

Something changed between them.  

He didn't love her anymore. 

He actually wasn't sure if what he'd felt for her in the first place was love or not. She'd been convenient and he'd thought at the time marriage=fulfillment.  

Braeden wasn't an idiot. Almost the instant it happened, she knew. And she was pissed.  

 

"Really? After three fucking years, you just, what? Woke up and decided you don't love me anymore?"  

He wanted to say ' _I never loved you,_ ' but thought it was wrong. Heartless. So he didn't. He didn't say anything.  

She rolled her eyes. "Unbelievable. You just want to throw all this away?" She gestured around them, not only to the loft, but between the two of them. They'd built a life together.  

Derek could pick up on the threat. _I'll take everything_ _if you do this. Bet on it._ "Yes," he said simply, voice low but even. She could take his money. He didn't care.  

She stared at him, eyes wide. She regained herself enough to spew more verbal petrol at him.  

And he yelled back.  

Ten minutes later she slapped him. It was loud and it stung and her palm (and he was sure his face) was red. In hindsight, he could've avoided it. But the moment she bit out, "You're an asshole. I loved you."  

He had then replied, "I never loved you." 

Braeden stormed out after packing an overnight bag. He let her go. 

　 

 

He stared at his computer screen. 

All of the files he’d saved the previous day were in some kind of code. Maybe something happened to the…fuck, he didn’t know. 

A window popped up. 

_"Congratulations! You have become a part of large community_ _CryptoWall_ _. If you are reading this text that means that the software_ _CryptoWall_ _has removed from your computer. What is encryption?-"_  

Derek scanned the frustratingly illiterate text. He dialed the comm for Lydia, the intern/ receptionist. 

"Hey, I'm going to need IT up here. My files are messed up." 

"I'll send for someone right now." 

"Thank you." It must've been a virus. He might've clicked on an emailed link or something. 

 

Twenty minutes later someone came to help him. 

His office door was open. Standing there was a child. A tall and very hot child, but a child nonetheless. 

"Hey," he raised his hand in a wave. "I'm here to help with your file issue." 

Derek tried not to look skeptical. He must've been another intern. Great. "It's all yours." He stood up to let the IT guy take a look. 

His eyes widened as he looked at the screen. 

"I need this fixed by Monday." 

The kid scratched his head. "Well...it's not that simple." 

"What do you mean 'it's not that simple'?" Derek all but growled. He'd had a rough week. 

The techie shifted nervously but stood his ground. "What you have is CryptoWall. 4.0, actually." He looked at Derek like that was supposed to mean something. 

Derek gave him a look in response that said he wasn't speaking the same language. 

"It's- complicated. Basically, it makes a copy of all your files, then encrypts those copies. Then deletes the original files. It has shadow volume copy deletion too so getting everything back is difficult. Your encrypted files are held captive until you pay the ransom to some deep web hacker. Which, in bit coins, is too expensive." 

"I can pay it. I need these files-" 

"It's not only that. The deep web is completely anonymous and it's not guaranteed that they'll fix it." 

Derek worked his fingers through his hair. "What's the exchange rate for bit coins?" 

Stiles blew out a breath. "1.79 BTC is about $700. And after ninety six hours, the amount doubles." 

Derek inhaled through his nose. "What are the chances of me paying and getting my files back?" 

"Less than 10..." he trailed off. 

_Well fuck._  

"I can try something." His fingers were dancing across the keyboard. "I'll download some programs to try and recover everything. It's a pretty layered process. MalwareBytes will detect any malware and HitmanPro is the second opinion scanner. Then I can get ShadowExplorer to restore the files." 

Nothing he was staying made any sense to Derek. 

Stiles turned in the swivel chair. "But I want you to know, the risk of losing everything is really big. Your files might be permanently compromised." 

He weighed his options. "Do it." 

"This'll take a while so you can leave or whatever." His eyes were moving across the screen at the same pace his fingers typed. 

"I have paper work to do," Derek said, scooting a pile of folders closer to him. He sat in the chair across from Stiles, the desk separating them. 

Stiles didn't reply, just kept typing. 

He didn't have to look at his fingers. It was mesmerizing. Derek had been typing for years and still couldn't look anywhere but the keyboard. 

Stiles' fingers, Derek noted, were long and pale. Perfect for typing.  

Fingers that would look perfect fisting sheets, writhing in pleas- 

Derek didn't let that thought continue. 

 

Ten minutes passed. 

The techie sat back. "The malware detection takes the longest." 

"What's your name, kid?" 

He seemed almost offended. "I'm 22, dude." Derek raised his eyebrows. _Ten years younger, then._ "And it's Stiles." 

He pulled out his card. "Well, Stiles, I'm giving you my card, just in case your supervisor needs to call me." 

"My supervisor?" 

"-Aren't you an intern?" 

Stiles put his hand to his forehead, a fit of laughter bubbling over. "You think I'm an intern?" 

Derek watched him lose it. Clearly there was something he missed. "I'm confused." 

Stiles took a calming breath, beating back the giggles. "I'm the regional manager. For the IT department." 

Derek stared at him in confusion. "But you're so-" 

"Young? Yeah, I know. But when you have the skills, age doesn't matter." Stiles started laughing again when he looked at Derek's face. "I'm sorry but you just looked so- so confused. Like, 'why is this _child_ the big boss." 

"I can't be the only one who does that." 

"No, you're definitely not, but for some reason your expression was hilarious." He wiped a tear from his eye. "That was good. Thanks for the laugh." 

"Anytime." 

 

Another forty minutes passed. 

"Success!" He fist pumped. "And it only took an hour." 

Derek looked up from the papers sprawled across his side of the desk. "Was anything lost?" He was prepared for the worst. 

Stiles’ chewed a lip as he scrolled with the mouse. "No. Actually. Which is weird and awesome." He sat back. "But yeah, everything should be taken care of. We’re all fixed now." He stood and Derek joined him. 

"Thank you." 

Stiles mock saluted. "No problem. This intern is here for anything you need." 

"I retract my thank you." 

"You can't do that." 

"Watch me: Stiles, you are no longer thanked." 

He gasped, putting hand to his chest. "You wound me." 

The phone on Derek's desk rang. Stiles nodded to him in understanding and walked out. 

It must've been Derek's imagination when the techie gave him a long pass. 

 

"Lydia, can you get IT up here?" 

"Again?" 

"There's been a complete overhaul for security and I don't have the password to update Java so please just call someone." 

There was a pause. "As you wish. I'll make sure to get Stiles." 

"Wait, you don't have to get him-" 

Lydia muted the comms. 

He sat back in his chair. There was a fluttery feeling in his stomach. 

"This time it's not my fault." 

"Whatever you say," Stiles said, sidling up next to him. "Maybe we should just revoke your computer rights." 

"Technology has a personal vendetta against me." 

Stiles was smiling. Derek wanted to see what other expressions he could make. 

"Alright- let's see." His eyes roamed the screen. "Ah. OK, you need to go here-" Stiles leaned over his shoulder. He pointed at the monitor. "Good. Now click on that." 

Derek did. If he turned his head, Stiles and he would be close enough to kiss- 

"Now drag that into this folder," he motioned with the same finger. 

He smelled like aftershave and strawberry gum. Along with such a heady, male scent it made Derek's chest feel hot. 

　 

"If you have any more questions, tech related or not, you can ask me directly. Skip the middleman," he handed Derek the paper. 

He tried not to read into the implication of having Stiles' number. 

 

Braeden came to the loft later in the night to pick up more of her stuff. 

"I've been staying with Deucalion," she said. 

Derek crossed his arms. "Fine."  

She looked even angrier when he didn't react with yelling. Or jealously, perhaps.  

He had voiced his anger in the past; he really didn't like Deucalion. Didn't trust him. But he'd trusted her. 

He didn't care. Not anymore. 

Braeden was shoving her belongings in a duffel. "You're so heartless." She was in the bathroom. The sounds of her slamming toiletries in the bag echoed. She rushed out, slinging the bag on her shoulder. She was breathing heavily, glaring straight at him. "I've fucked him before." 

Derek stare. "What?" 

She almost smiled. "I've fucked him since we were married. When you'd go on a business trip. When we'd go out for the night with 'friends'. Every time I went to his place." 

He wasn't angry. He was something else entirely. 

She stood by the door. "And you know what I'll be doing tonight?" This time she did smile. A self-satisfied twist of her lips. 

Derek wasn't angry. He was hurt. 

He turned away from her. The sound of the door slamming didn't register. 

Though things hadn't always been perfect between them, he hadn't even considered cheating on her. 

He'd trusted her. And she- 

Derek looked at the band around his ring finger. He slid it off and threw it somewhere. 

He called a cab. 

 

There was a hotel with a decent bar half an hour away. That's how he planned on spending the night. Wasted, passed out in a hotel, and then get a cab back in the morning. Seemed pretty solid. 

He was at the bar, working on his second drink, and he wanted someone. 

Derek debated with himself for an hour before he finally texted Stiles. 

      Is there somewhere you can meet me? 

He wasted no time in replying. 

      Sure. Where? 

Derek stared at his phone. He had not been expecting that. Did that mean their intentions were the same? Or- 

If this was going to happen, it was going to happen now. 

He needed it. He needed someone. 

He texted the hotel's address. 

Stiles showed up less than an hour later, looking around for the man. He spotted Derek and moved to join him at the bar. He took the stool right next to him. 

"Want anything? I'm buying." Derek was overly aware of the body next to his. 

"Awesome." He told the bartender his order. He turned to Derek. "How many have you had?" 

"Three or four." 

Stiles eyed him. "You OK?" 

She put Stiles' drink down. The techie picked up his glass. 

Derek shrugged and took a drink. "I am now." 

Stiles smiled against his glass. "Good." 

Derek might’ve had too much because there seemed to be clear sexual tension between them. And the alcohol gave him the extra edge to offer: "I have a room." 

Stiles licked his bottom lip. "What are you suggesting?"  

Derek leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. The bartender was pointedly not looking at them. 

Stiles drained his glass. Getting off the stool, he said: "Then why are we still here?" 

 

The hotel clerk with crooked teeth smiled widely. "Your room card." He’d had her hold onto it, just in case he really did have too much to drink. 

He grabbed the crook of Stiles' elbow, dragging him to the room. 

They stepped onto the elevator. When the doors closed their hands were on each other in seconds. Derek pressed Stiles to the metal wall. Their lips connected harshly, teeth clanking and biting. Derek's hand was under Stiles' shirt, palms running over his nipples. He shoved a knee between Stiles' legs. Derek massaged him there. He bucked into the pressure. 

The doors opened with a ding. They stepped out, panting. Derek's hair was mussed from Stiles pulling it. 

 

They found the room number, Stiles pressing into his side. 

The key fell out of Derek's overexcited fingers. 

Stiles dropped to his knees, right there in the hotel hallway. He picked up the keycard and put it behind his back. He looked up at Derek before leaning forward to tug the zipper of his pants down with his teeth. 

Derek was amazed. And unbearably horny. His brain hadn't short circuited 100% at that point. "Stiles," he panted. "You- _fuck_ \- the key. Now." 

"Take it," Stiles purred. He handed it to Derek, still on his knees, and grabbed the man's hand before he could pull it back. He took Derek's index finger into his mouth, licking and sucking. Swirling the digit with his ridiculously erotic tongue. 

Derek cursed, managing to open the door despite the show Stiles was giving him.  

He practically threw him towards the bed. 

　 

"This is where it begins," Derek said against his lips the next morning. 

Stiles kissed him again. "I'm cool with that." 

 

_I won't let him complete me._  

They met up after work a couple of times a week. Derek preferred hotels, just in case Braeden stopped by the loft. He didn’t want to deal with that train wreck. 

 

The view was from their hotel breathtaking cityscape. Bright lights against the dark sky. People were everywhere below. The night life. 

Stiles' eyes flashed bright . Like highway signs trying to pull in visitors. It worked. 

"You don't mind, do you?" He shook the plastic bag. Derek recognized the contents. 

"I don't care." 

Stiles said, "Cool," before opening the bag, pulling out a pre-rolled joint. "Do you partake?" He pulled out a lighter. 

Derek hadn't smoked since high school. "I do now." 

Stiles laughed, lighting a joint. He handed it over to Derek. 

 

He danced in nothing but underwear and socks. Derek laughed with him. 

Stiles held out a hand. "Join me." 

Derek grabbed his hand, standing up on the mattress. Stiles clutched his arms like stairway railings. Using him to stay upright as he giggled. 

 

Stiles didn't love him. 

But in the moments they held each other, they could pretend. 

 

Stiles took a puff and passed it to Derek. 

Derek accepted the joint and did the same. Stiles rested his head on the man's shoulder. 

_I want to kiss you_ , Derek thought. 

Stiles pressed his lips onto the skin of Derek's shoulders. 

Derek's breathing picked up. He dropped the joint into the ashtray on the nightstand. In one solid movement, he flipped Stiles onto his back. His hands were on either side of his head, their faces were inches apart. He kissed him. 

Stiles laughed when they pulled apart to breathe. "Again?" 

Derek grinned, a wolf's smile. "Yes." 

Stiles' laugh turned into a drawn out moan. 

 

_The feeling of your lips against my skin...it drives me crazy._  

 

Stiles' hands grasped onto the white sheets. Panting, slick-wet groaning. 

It was filthy. But so fucking hot. 

　 

Stiles clutched at his brain. Things were easy with him. He eased the ailing Derek had felt all of his life. 

　 

He refused to let it show that he desperately wanted to hold onto what they had. 

That he didn't want to let it go. 

　 

Stiles' head popped in through the door. "You free for lunch?" 

Derek nodded. "There's a deli with decent sandwiches not far from here if you're interested." 

"The one with the wiener dog on the logo? Hell yeah. Let's go." And then Derek was following him out. 

_You're stuck in my brain._  

 

Long nights in hotel rooms started carrying over into work. Sometimes Derek’s ‘computer’ troubles could only be solved by Stiles. 

 

Long fingers, amber eyes, red lips- 

Derek shook his head. He tried to refrain from thinking of Stiles. 

That went as well as it usually did. Before long, his mind was wandering and the mind down there was also remembering Stiles. 

      Can you meet me tonight? 

The other texted him back with foit separate messages. 

       Yes 

       But it's so early in the day 

       To be asking me already... 

        Are you perhaps having dirty thoughts? 

Derek adjusted in his chair. 

        Maybe.  

Stiles' reply was automatic. 

        Pervert 

It was getting hot in the room.  

         Say anything else and I'll put you over my knee. 

He swallowed as he read Stiles' next message.  

           mhmm what if I like getting spanked? 

His pants were getting too tight. 

            Not the time for this. 

He adjusted again.  

             Are you getting hard right now? At work? 

              That's so fucking hot 

              Want me to lend a hand? 

He breathed in deeply. 

               Get up here. Now. 

 

"This is not what I had in mind," Derek hissed. 

Stiles nuzzled against his crotch. "As long as you don't react, everything will be fine." 

Derek picked up a pen, eyes darting to the open door. "I don't know about- _fuck_ -" he breathed. 

Stiles had undone his zipper, exposing the bulge in his underwear. He sucked at the head through the cloth. "Quiet now, Derek," he whispered, breath ghosting against his hard cock. 

He gritted his teeth. Eyes trying to focus on the computer monitor. 

Stiles pulled him out and licked a tiny strip up Derek's dick. It wasn't enough. 

He pressed a kiss to the flushed head. 

Derek bucked forward in his seat, chasing more contact. 

Stiles pulled back, keeping one hand wrapped around the base.  

" _Stiles_ ," he hissed. _Please stop being such a fucking tease._  

He heard the techie giggle and felt him lean back in to tongue at his slit. 

Derek's eyes slid shut as he let the warmth of Stiles' mouth overwhelm him. 

Anyone could pass by. Or pop their head in for a chat. 

Stiles reached a hand back to massage his balls in tandem with his pump and lick movements. 

He came with a tiny catch of breath he disguised with a cough. 

　 

He took the elevator to Derek's office a week later. 

It was work related, surprisingly. Though he would've preferred a hot and quick fuck. 

Whatever. 

He waved to the receptionist and weaved through the maze of cubicles. 

The door to Derek's office swung open as Stiles got close enough to see. 

A girl stormed out. Her cheeks were red. Either angry or on the verge of tears, he couldn't tell. 

Most likely pissed, based on the short, hard steps. 

She stomped past him, shoulder brushing his. 

Stiles couldn't help but notice the wedding ring around her finger. 

A beautiful woman. 

Wearing a wedding ring. 

Leaving Derek's office. 

 

"Who was that girl?" 

Derek looked panicked for a millisecond, so short a time Stiles thought he imagined it. Then he was back to cool and collected. "I get clients in here all the time thinking I'm the one to meet face to face." 

"Oh. I get it." 

There was a smudge of lipstick on the man’s face. 

Stiles’ throat was tight. 

He handed Derek the new USB cord and turned to leave. 

"Wait, Stiles-" he reached out a hand. "Can you- tonight?" 

Stiles looked away. "Yeah." 

The man nodded. "Good." 

He walked out. 

When he stepped onto the elevator, a single sob slipped out of his iron hold. 

The relationship he and Derek had-he knew what it was. Just sex. No commitment. 

But somewhere along the way he'd diluted himself into thinking, maybe, _maybe_ Derek liked him. 

He wiped his eyes as the ding indicated his floor. 

_Second's not the same._  

　 

Lydia’s voice had come over the intercom. "Derek, _she_ is here. Do you want me to send her away?" 

He blew out a breath. "No, I’ll handle it." 

"If you say so. I’ll send her your way." 

 

Braeden crossed her arms. "I’m not signing the papers." 

Derek stood from his chair to close the door. "You made that clear from the box of ashes you sent me." 

"Then stop sending _me_ the damn papers!" 

He stood in front of her. "Don’t fight this."  

Something on her face changed. "You found someone already." 

Derek didn't say anything. 

"Jesus christ. Really, Derek?" She let out a breath. "Who is she? That secretary, huh? She's young and pretty. You like that, right-" 

"No," he said simply. 

"Well, whoever she is, she won’t be enough. You'll never be satisfied." 

"He is enough. I’m satisfied with him." 

Her eyes widened. "You're _gay_?" 

"Bisexual, actually." 

She stared at him, mouth open in disbelief. "You're not serious." 

Derek's face remained impassive. "I'm serious." 

She adjusted the strap of her purse. "I’m not signing the papers. You know how much we’ll lose if you actually pursue this?"  

They had a prenup, which in hindsight, wasn’t the best way to kick off a marriage. Nothing says I love you like I don’t trust you enough with my things. On both sides, cheating was a violation. She’d admitted she’d slept with Deucalion. Several times. _She_ would lose everything. 

"I am pursuing this." 

"I thought we could work through this. I didn’t think you were serious. But clearly things have changed. _You_ have changed. Is he really worth it?" 

Derek nodded. "I think so." 

She stood in front of him, face set in hard line of defiance. "I’ll see you later, Der." She leaned up to plant a kiss on his mouth but he turned away. Her lips touched his cheek. 

There was anger in her eyes when she looked back up at him.  

　 

Derek sat against his headboard. He'd said 'fuck it' and invited Stiles to the loft. 

The techie was talking about some TV show with wolves or something. 

Derek wasn't listening to the words. He stared at Stiles’ half dressed body. He swallowed. "I have some things to tell you." 

 

"So you _are_ married?"  

"Technically."  

Stiles stood up abruptly. His long legs started an anxious pace. "Oh God, I'm a home wrecker. Why didn't you tell me-" he stopped pacing and turned to Derek "-what do you mean 'technically'?"  

"We're separated."  

He crossed his arms. "Explain."  

Derek scratched the back of his neck. "It means she moved out a month ago and won't sign the papers to finalize the divorce."  

"She just, what, tells you sorry and doesn't reply or something?"  

"More like burns the papers and mails me the ashes."  

Stiles plopped down next to him."That's rough, buddy." 

The two males stared forward.  

_Could we pretend that we're in love?_  "I'm sorry." 

The other turned to him. "Why?" 

He ran a hand through his hair. "Because I fell in love with you. I didn't mean to. And now I don’t know if what we do will be enough anymore-" 

"Oh, cool. I love you too." 

Derek blinked. "No." 

"Um...how do I respond to that?" 

The man's mind was still processing. "When?" 

"Probably that first night in your hotel room," Stiles answered. 

"Fuck." He looked at his hands. "Me too." 

Stiles tugged on his sleeve. "Now please get over here and kiss me." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bonus: 

"I can't believe you waited _this_ long to tell me." 

"I can't believe _you_ waited until _after_ I had an internal crisis to tell me." 

"Still..." 


End file.
